


Harry Potter and the Home of Serpents

by AlexIsBadAtNames



Series: Slytherin's Schemes and Serpent's Tongues [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, But he's a manipulative arse so who cares, But they're kids so not yet!, Draco is gonna have some sense bashed into him, Eventual Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, F/F, F/M, Gen, Heir Potter's got himself a scaly friend, I only have like two books properly planned, I'm not quite sure how I wanna do this so bear with me, If you think I'm censoring anything you're delusionsl, M/M, Not exactly a golden trio, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Slytherin Ron Weasley, dark/grey Harry potter, more like a silver septet, preteens that actually act like preteens unbelievable, so sorry if it sucks, tags will be updated when I figure out what I'm doing, whether he likes it or not
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-08-31
Packaged: 2020-06-25 17:22:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19750312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexIsBadAtNames/pseuds/AlexIsBadAtNames
Summary: Harry Potter learned to care for himself from a very young age. His only friends were garden snakes, and while he knew nothing of his destiny, he did know how to slight his relatives, the perfect ways to make things worse for them but far, far better for himself.Ronald Weasley was always undermined by his big brothers. The quiet one, they said. He decided that he would break all of their expectations.Hermione Granger was an absolute genius, but she always wanted more. Her heart was set on being the best, so that's exactly what she fought to do.It's no wonder these three get along. And they've promised to be a menace to whomever decides to stand against them, including one nuisance of a Dark Lord.-Updates are sort of just... totally on hold for the forseeable future? And if they do come it will be with no real rhyme or reason. You know how it is, shit's wild these days





	1. Prologue: The Snake's Tongue

Harry Potter didn't have any friends. His cousin Dudley and his gang made sure of that, because even a few older kids at school were afraid of them. Not that any older kid would deem Harry cool enough to be friends with anyway.

Harry Potter had been told he was a freak. His aunt and uncle had many ways to show him that, their favorite weapons being frying pans and belt buckles.

Harry Potter lived in a cupboard under the stairs of Number 4 Privet Drive. It was a perfectly normal house, on a perfectly normal street, and the Dursleys wanted nothing more than a perfectly normal life. So of course, they were unhappy taking care of their freak of a nephew, and how horribly ungrateful he was for all they had done for him.

All of this is why the 5-year-old boy was out working in the garden one summer day, after an undoubtedly freakish incident that had gotten him quite the beating.

Harry didn't mind tending the garden that much. The stinging of the fresh wounds on his legs was more bothersome, especially with the dirt rubbing into the cuts. Still, the little boy pressed on pulling up weeds, knowing he'd be sent to bed without food again if he failed.

He was so focused on his task that he didn't notice the long green thing until it was on his leg. It looked a bit like a big worm, and despite his fear, he stopped working for a moment to stroke the curious creature.

 _"Mm. Yesss, right there pleassse. It'sss been a while sssince I got a good rub from a human."_ The raven-haired boy looked around for the source of the noise before settling on the strange worm.

 _"Wasss that you?"_ he asked, not realizing his words had come out as a hiss. The creature coiled up and raised it's head, looking at him through closed eyes. _"You can underssstand me? You must be a ssspeaker!"_ it hissed excitedly, leaning closer to his face.

 _"A ssspeaker?"_ It wiggled rapidly in a strange imitation of a human nod. _"Not many humansss can talk to us snakesss. I've never met a ssspeaker before . My mama wasss bonded with one a long time ago, before I hatched. My name's isss Athalia, you will be my human!"_ It didn't seem like something the strange worm- snake- was going to negotiate on, so Harry nodded in agreement, a small smile growing on his face. 

When the boy was dragged back inside, it was with his first friend wrapped around his torso under his shirt, hissing threats at the mammals who kept him in a cage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who might get salty: I know basilisk don't lay eggs and therefore don't have mamas, but that's not a good way for a species to survive and I wanted to up Athalia's adorableness so I changed it. It's an AU deal with it.


	2. Chapter One: The School of Magic

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you sooooo much to everyone who left comments on the last chapter! I'm quite literally squealing at the fact that human beings are taking an interest in my stories, like what is this sorcery? Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one!  
> (Also sorry for the late update, kinda lost track of time)

Harry had long since given up trying to keep Athalia from hissing complaints about his aunt and uncle. For one, it wouldn't stop her, and for another, he wasn't inclined to disagree. He had to admit, there were times when he was tempted to add a little extra _spice_ to their food, but then he'd likely be shipped off to some useless orphanage and might even lose his friend.

No, best to stay where he was and continue subtle little sabotages that couldn't be traced back to him. 

These pranks were made exponentially easier with the basilisk hatchling by his side. Athalia claimed it was because she acted as a familiar, enhancing his power and control over his magic. By the time he was ten, he could levitate his tiny, hard mattress when he was sitting on top, create and control small balls of colorful floating light, and influence the temperature to the point where he had once caused Dudley and Piers Polkiss to slip on ice while pursuing him in August.

The Dursleys were infuriated by these small feats of magic, and if Harry was just a bit worse at dodging then the pranks might not be worth it. As it was, he could almost always make it to his cupboard or a very unlikely hiding place whenever he was blamed.

Many times, he dreamed of being swept away to be with other wizards, safe from the Dursleys and their shoddy cupboard. Athalia supported these ideas, saying that there was a whole world of magic out there, and his rescue would come soon.

And two weeks before his eleventh birthday, it did exactly that.

* * *

"Dudley, go get the mail."

"Make Harry do it!" his morbidly obese cousin whined. Harry rolled his eyes and shot the pig a glare.

"Harry, go get the mail."

"Make Dudley do it," the scrawny boy said, mocking the tone his cousin had used.

"Poke him with your Smelting Stick, Dudley."

Harry ducked away from the stick and into the hall, slinking to the door. A bill, a letter from Pig Sr.(his uncle)'s work, and...

A letter addressed to _him_ , one that bore a strange wax seal. He turned the letter over, trying to judge if it was a prank. It had the cupboard listed, and he felt the familiar hum of magic. Definitely real.

Happiness swelled in his throat, and he sent a burst of excitement to Athalia along their mental link.

"BOY!" Cursing under his breath, Harry stuffed the letter into the waistband of his trousers and strode into the kitchen. He plopped the other mail onto the table with a mocking flourish, and after waiting for a moment only to be given no chores, scurried off to his cupboard.

Athalia was coiled on his bed, head waving side to side like a cobra. _What's going on? You were happy. Which is very good, but unexpected._

He simply pulled out the letter, beaming. She flicked her tongue at it curiously and her outer eyelids widened. _It smells magical._

_Exactly,_ he responded, still grinning as he opened the letter. His eyes flicked over the contents, sharing the information with Athalia in their mental link. By the end, the basilisk would have been grinning as wide as he if she could.

_A school for magic! Wizards! I knew I wasn't the only one._

_As did I,_ the serpent responded, annoyed. _You never listen to me when you should._

 _Oh, calm down. I know, you've told me all about magic. It's still a lot different to be invited to a magical school._ Of course, stroking the back of her head helped to shut her up just as much as the explanation.

_Mm. Well, I suppose you will have to find an owl. They want a response._

_An owl? That might be hard, considering that I'm not nocturnal and have a very deadly snake protecting me from harmless things._

_I will not kill the owl. This magic school ought to have left one nearby, otherwise I will have to grow wings and deliver the letter for you._ Harry laughed at that mental image, and ran a hand down the length of her back. _That would be quite a way to go._

* * *

Harry quickly drafted a letter to the sender, stating that he would attend and asking about how he would get the supplies listed on the acceptance letter. He and Athalia quickly came up with a plan and it was put into action late that night.

Harry slowly worked his magic to unlock his cupboard door as he had done many times in the past. He crept over to the front door and slipped out as silently as possible, letter clutched in his hand. Athalia unwound herself from around his torso once the door had closed and began flicking her tongue out, sniffing the night air for any letter-carrying poultry.

Harry followed her to a tree, looking up into its branches. He held out the letter and the owl simply screeched at him, flaring its wings and puffing its chest. Athalia rose up, hissing threateningly, and the bird backed off. 

Alright, that didn't seem to be a magic owl. Moving on, Athalia led him farther still from the Dursley's house. The second owl was a deep gray, and looked at them with wide eyes. It held out its foot and Harry slowly, carefully offered it the letter.

The talons closed around the paper, and he felt that they would not be letting go until the owl had reached its destination. Clearing his throat, Harry felt a bit silly for what he was about to say, but thought it necessary.

"Could you take it to Minerva McGonagall at the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?" The owl gave a hoot and vanished with a flap of its great wings. Harry looked at Athalia with a hesitant smile and she bared her fangs in her version of a grin.

The two slipped back into the house and Harry drifted off, thoughts of floating lights and silvery mist filling his dreams.

* * *

In their correspondence with the school, they had chosen a day where the Dursleys were gone. They had locked Harry in his cupboard as usual, but he of course unlocked it with his magic and awaited their visitor.

Harry bolted for the door as soon as he heard a knock. The elderly woman on the other side looked... unorthodox, to say the least. She looked like a strict old schoolteacher, which wasn't too bad, but what did throw him off was her attire. 

The witch was cloaked in flowing dark green robes, layers of billowing fabric that couldn't possibly be comfortable in the summer heat. Atop her head was a tall hat, similar to the cartoonish witches he had seen many a Halloween. He couldn't help but stare for a moment before he remembered his manners ( _More like I reminded you of them)_ and invited her in.

"H-Hullo. You must be Professor McGonagall. I'm Harry Potter." He held up a shaking hand and the witch gave him a curious look. "Yes, it is good to meet you, Mr. Potter. I hope you will not mind the rush, but I feel that we should make this brief. Are you familiar with Side-Along Apparition?"

Side along what now? His expression must have betrayed his confusion, because the Deputy Headmistress gave an exasperated sigh. "It is similar to what Muggles- non-magical folk- refer to as teleportation. It will be useful for getting you to Diagon Alley in a short amount of time, as I'm sure your Muggles relatives are not connected to the Floo network." He wasn't sure what the Floo network was, but teleporting sounded very convenient. He hoped he could learn it soon, it would be even better than unlocking his door and sneaking about.

"Oh. Alright then." The witch extended an arm and Harry grabbed onto it before he was turned inside out.

Harry stumbled as he landed, extraordinarily dizzy and quite nauseous as well. The Professor gave him a sympathetic look and steadied him with her hand. Athalia was hissing loudly and stuck her head out of his shirt, complaining to him. McGonagall paled at the sight of her, and stepped backwards dramatically.

_"What in the world was that?! You could warn me before you rip me in half!"_

_"I'm sorry! I didn't realize- Professor, is something wrong?"_ The Deputy Headmistress seemed to be changing colours quite rapidly. She finally came to her senses and grabbed Harry's arm, dragging him into the nearest shop.

"Mister Potter, what on Earth?! Why is there a basilisk under your shirt?! And you were speaking with it in broad daylight, do you not realize- agh!"

"Wh- I-I mean, she said there weren't many people who could talk to her, but why is it a big deal?" The teacher seemed increasingly frustrated with every word, and by the time he had finished he was barely squeaking it out. 

"Mr. Potter, I understand you do not have an extensive magical education, but certainly your relatives told you something!"

"I... no, they... they didn't. I figured out about magic on my own- with Athalia's help, of course," he explained, nuzzling the serpent. These words made the professor falter. "You don't- but surely you wondered how your parents- what happened to them, did you not?"

Harry was getting the feeling that he was misinformed. "M-my Aunt said they died in a car crash."

The teacher was bright red by now. "A car crash... a _car crash_... madness, absolute- nevermind, nevermind. I suppose an explanation is due to you, although you should have heard the truth ages ago.

* * *

"S-so... my parents were killed by an evil wizard... and I survived?"

"Indeed. You are well known among wizardkind, although nobody knows just why the curse rebounded from you and destroyed He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." Harry stroked Athalia's head thoughtfully, not meeting the professor's eyes.

"Alright," he finally said, looking back up with an entirely too calm expression. "I guess it makes sense. My aunt and uncle hate magic, they wouldn't have wanted a reminder of that." Something about this boy... Minerva rubbed her temples, trying to clear her head.

"Well! Well. Now that that's over, why don't you get to finding your school supplies?" The boy ducked his head, messy black hair falling over his face. "U-Um... _idon'thavemoney._ "

"What was that, Mr. Potter?" He cleared his throat and raised his head, but avoided her gaze. "I don't actually... have any money... I completely forgot...." Minerva almost laughed. This boy had no idea, did he?

"No need to worry about that, Mr. Potter. Your parents did not leave you with nothing. Come, follow me."

* * *

Harry returned to his cupboard that afternoon with a pocket full of Galleons, a shrunken trunk, and a lightness in his heart. In just a month, he would be off to Hogwarts, free of the Dursleys for a whole year. Free to do magic, free to let Athalia roam a bit. Not only that, he had made a friend- his first human friend- whilst getting fitted for his robes. Yes, this would be a wonderful year.

_**BANG!** _

"BOY!!!"

If he could last til the end of summer.


	3. Chapter Two: Curious Clothing

Harry was all but thrown out of the car at King's Cross, his trunk in his hand and a very tired basilisk curled up inside. He clutched his ticket tightly and ran in, darting through the crowds as he practically flew to his destination.

Platform Nine, Platform Ten. He looked between the two with a frown, checking his ticket to be _absolutely sure_ he had the right numbers. He did. The platform simply wasn't there.

Harry leaned against a wall to contemplate. What was he supposed to do? Was this all a big joke after all? He quickly waved that aside, there was nobody who could gain anything from pulling this and Diagon Alley would have taken far too much work to be worth it. Not to mention that that letter practically reeked of magic.

Harry stayed where he was until shouting reached his ears. "Platform 9 3/4! Come on Weasleys, let's go!"

He shot off the wall and towards the source of the noise. Harry wasn't sure what a Weasley was, but he knew he had heard mention of the mysterious nonexistent platform.

"Platform 9 3/4, this way!"

"Mum, keep it _down_! There's Muggles here!" came the whine of a male voice. Definitely wizards. Harry glanced around before catching sight of a huge group of redheads. Time for the scared little boy act, he supposed.

"Excuse me, miss, were you talking about Platform 9 3/4?" he whimpered, sidling up to the mother of the family. "I'm going to Hogwarts and I just can't seem to find it." The woman cooed and put a hand on his back. "Oh, don't worry dearie. It's my Ronald's first year, too. We'll show you to the platform. Percy, you first." Harry watched in shock as the boy ran straight for the barrier between Nine and Ten, sure to get a bloody nose... and then went straight through.

So that's what magic could do. He was barely aware as the woman directed two other boys to do the same, and was ripped out of his daze by a tug on the arm.

"You can go next. Best to go at a bit of a run if you're nervous." He nodded and walked briskly to the barrier, almost turning away at the last second until...

A feeling of coolness washed over him and he opened his eyes to see a bustling platform packed with people and a magnificent old train. He sidestepped as the youngest redhead- Weasley?- brother came barreling through and reached out an arm to steady him. 

"Thanks, mate. Always a little freaky, runnin' for that wall." Harry nodded in agreement. "We'd better get on the train before it bursts," he joked, leading the way through the crowd.

The pair boarded quickly, searching up and down for an empty compartment. Harry stopped his new friend as he recognized the resident of one, knocking gently on the door.

The boy inside glanced up and smiled slightly as he saw Harry. He opened the door and retreated back to his seat, offering a handshake to each newcomer.

"Hello, Draco. Long time, no see."

"Good to see you too. Who's this?" The blond gestured to his companion, an odd look on his face. 

"I'm Ron. Good to meet you." They both settled into the seats across from Draco, Harry gazing out the window in wonder.

"So, Harry, have you thought about what House you're going to be in? I'd be ashamed if I were anywhere but Slytherin, but half of that's to do with my father anyway." Harry tensed at the question. He had thought about it, but the more he thought, the more torn he was.

The way Draco had explained it in his most recent letter, there were four Houses. Slytherin, the House of the cunning and ambitious, Ravenclaw, for intelligent and creative people, Hufflepuff, which valued "loyalty or something", and Gryffindor, the brave and chivalrous (or, as Draco had remarked with a sneer, reckless morons).

"I don't really know. I don't think I'd do well in Ravenclaw, and I'm not too sure what Hufflepuff's even about, but..." He trailed off, the silence proving his point as much as an explanation would.

"It's not that big a deal, I don't suppose. We're not the ones who choose anyway. How about you?" Ron seemed just as surprised as he had been to be asked. "U-um, well, most of my family's in Gryffindor, but that's not really for me. I wanna be... better? Not to say that they're bad," he added hastily.

Draco simply gave a knowing smirk. "I know what you mean. You'd be well as a Slytherin, good on you for getting away from your family." Ron flushed and drew inward, failing to hide his grin.

They were deep in conversation when the compartment door practically flew open. A bushy-haired girl lugging a trunk twice her size appeared in the doorway, throwing all the boys off. "Would you mind if I sit here? All the other compartments are full."

"Um... I suppose?" Draco looked at Harry , bewildered.

"Yeah, sure." The girl sighed and plopped down next to Draco, trunk at her side. "Thank goodness. Sorry to interrupt you all," she said, pulling out a book.

"'S not a problem. We were just talking about what House we wanted to be in." The book snapped shut and the brunette stared Ron down. "Really?! Oh, do tell! I've not heard much but a lot of people say that Slytherin's pretty bad. I'd like to be in Ravenclaw or Gryffindor myself." Draco wrinkled his nose and started to say something, but Ron quickly cut in.

"I've actually heard it's quite nice. It's got some Dark wizards but Gryffindor isn't too innocent of that either, and Dark magic isn't even that bad, just a bit dangerous if you don't use it properly." Harry was taken aback. From the brief interaction with Ron, he hadn't expected him to pick up quickly enough to diffuse the tension. 

The girl seemed a bit shocked as well, carefully considering his words. "I... I suppose you're right. A lot of the things I've heard were just rumours, after all. Oh, where are my manners? I'm Hermione Granger."

"I'm Draco Malfoy. This is Harry Potter and Ron...?"

"Weasley." Harry didn't miss the look that flashed across Draco's face at the last name, but before he could give it any thought, he was jumped by Hermione.

"Harry Potter? Oh, it's great to meet you! I've read a lot on the wizarding world, of course, and I must say I found it to be quite interesting how you fought off something so Dark by accident. Tell me, do-"

"Would you save us the headache and shut up?" Draco snapped, the air around him bristling with magic. Hermione glared at him and went to speak, but Harry beat her to it. "Draco, don't be rude. She's just curious." The brunette smirked and puffed up at the defense, shooting Harry a grateful smile. Draco, on the other hand, gave him a sour look but said nothing more on the subject.

They quickly lapsed into a separate conversation, a comfortable balance having been reached in the compartment. Harry decided that he would like to remain friends with these people, regardless of where any of them were sorted.

* * *

All four of the students in the compartment scrambled over one another, struggling to get out as the train screeched to a halt. Hermione swept out first, leaving the boys to practically tackle one another through the door.

They all eventually made it out of the train and into a crowd of students going every which way. Harry thought he'd get lost until he heard a gruff voice calling "Firs' years over here! C'mon, firs' years!" He managed to fight through the crowd, catching sight of a blond head and a red one quite close to each other. After struggling to get over, he popped up by Draco's side, startling both.

"Either of you seen Granger?" Ron shrugged, Draco shook his head, and they all continued towards the person calling for first years.

After a brief walk, they came quite close to falling in a lake. A large hand caught Harry by the arm just as he stepped off the shore, and he got away with just a slightly squeaky shoe and a wet pants leg.

His rescuer was massive, to say the least. The man was twice as tall as Harry, and twice as broad as Uncle Vernon. Nearly his entire face was covered in thick black hair, even busier than Hermione's, and Harry nearly fell _back_ into the lake with shock. Draco's hand caught his other arm, steadying him, and he managed to choke out a "Thank you" to the man.

"I's no problem atall! I'm Rubeus Hagrid, groundskeeper. You lot ought to get into the canoes, we'll be leavin' soon. Four to a boat!" He lumbered off, leaving the trio in a state of bewilderment as they turned back towards the lake.

Indeed, there was a large group of canoes on the water. Harry spotted Hermione climbing carefully into an empty one and dragged the other two over as quickly as possible.

They managed to make it before anybody else, and ended up with Ron and Hermione in the back and Harry and Draco in front. After a bit of waiting, the rest of the students in their year were in their respective boats and they set of, crossing the lake guided by the groundskeeper- Hagrid, he had said.

Draco rocked the boat a few times to poke fun at Harry's motion sickness, but stopped when the slightly nauseous boy mentioned he couldn't swim. The two traded the oars with Ron and Hermione every few minutes, and it was overall a fairly pleasant ride. After the brief journey, they were relieved to be back on solid ground (and if anyone thought they saw Draco helping Harry out of the boat, they were obviously mistaken and needed their eyes checked).

They were led up countless flights of stairs, inside and outside of the castle, and past at least a hundred moving portraits before being stopped in front of a set of large wooden doors. A familiar witch stood before the crowd of first years and she cleared her throat loudly, silencing the murmurs flitting about the crowd.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room." Harry knew all this. He contemplated whether he should even bother listening all the way through, but figured his new friends- were they close enough to call friends? Draco was, he supposed- may have left some things out. Or simply not known.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rulebreaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes, which had been shifting throughout the crowd, settled briefly on Harry, and he ducked his head only to receive a jab from Draco's elbow and a whispered demand to _"pay attention, Potter!"_

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

She vanished through the door, and with her went the silence. Students were muttering to each other, a few seemingly random remarks reaching Harry's own ears. Draco turned to him with a bored expression. "How long you think she'll be gone?" Harry shrugged and brushed his hair out of his eyes absentmindedly.

"Suppose we've just got to wait and find out. Say, do you know how they're going to sort us?"

Draco shook his head fervently, a scowl forming quickly. "My parents wouldn't say anything. I expect it'll be some sort of test though. Lowest scores go to Gryffindor." The last part was said with a smirk and Harry couldn't help but chuckle. He hoped it wouldn't be any sort of test- he didn't know anything about magic yet, except for what he had managed without a wand while growing up.

He didn't have much more time to contemplate it, because the door swung open and Professor McGonagall gestured for them to follow. The students flooded into the Great Hall, many pointing and staring at the ceiling. Harry looked up to see what the fuss was about, and what he saw took his breath away.

The ceiling didn't even exist. The hall opened up into a magnificent view of the night sky, and Harry could see why everyone was so stunned.

"It's not really there. The ceiling's just enchanted to look like the sky," Draco muttered, but both were still enamored by the view.

Harry was a bit startled when a large hat on a stool up front began to sing, but it did confirm a lot of what he had heard about the Houses, and further deepened his resolve that he'd like to be in Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall, standing next to the hat, partly unrolled a large scroll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

The first girl was made a Hufflepuff, along with a few others. The first Slytherin of their year was "Bulstrode, Millicent" who looked like a nice enough girl, he supposed.

After a few names, Hermione Granger was called. It took a moment before the hat called out "SLYTHERIN!" causing Harry and Draco's grins to widen. The bushy-haired girl shot them a smile before she took her seat at the table on the far left.

When Draco was called, Harry gave him a smile of encouragement, and he darted up. Scarcely had the hat been placed on his head when it shouted "SLYTHERIN!" Once more and he grinned widely, taking a seat next to Hermione and shooting Harry a happy look just as she had.

As Harry's turn crept closer and closer, he began to get nervous. What if he were sorted into a different House? Draco didn't seem to hate the others that much, but maybe he was hiding it. What if he wasn't really meant to be there, and the hat sat on his head forever until McGonagall yanked it off his head and sent him back to the Dursleys? 

He was still worrying when his name was called and Ron had to practically shove him forward. The Hat fell over his eyes and he heard a voice in his head, not too different from when he and Athalia spoke through their bond.

"Ah, young Mr. Potter. What to do with you? I see a lot of courage, yes... quite a bright mind... ah, so much talent. And a hunger for power, you could be very great." Harry brightened, knowing where that was leading. 

"SLYTHERIN!"

He leapt off the stool and practically ran to sit with his new friends. The Slytherin table erupted with cheers, even louder applause than the other students. Draco grinned at him, and Hermione did as well.

The last students, Ron and a boy named Blaise Zabini, were also sorted into Slytherin. The three greeted Ron with grins and he sat across from Harry, their small part of the table being a bit packed.

This was going to be a good year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, these are just getting longer and longer aren't they? For anybody wondering, I copied and pasted McGonagall's speech because I saw no reason to change anything. Also, sorry for the lack of Athalia (yall seem to really like her, I'm glad) but she will be here next chapter, goat's honour.  
> See ya, lovelies!


	4. Chapter Three: Lessons in Madness (or maybe magic)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the lateness, lovelies! On vacation and all that, I got really busy yesterday and couldn't quite finish editing. But I hope y'all enjoy the chapter anyway!

The welcoming feast was the best Harry had eaten in his life. When all the lavish foods appeared, he couldn't help wanting to eat some of everything, but he managed to keep it reasonable. He would have to work to getting his appetite to a normal level, years of little food had caused him to vomit whenever he ate what most considered a normal amount.

Just another thing to consider when he eventually paid his aunt and uncle their dues.

Brushing the thought aside, Harry managed to control himself and ate a lot more than usual but still enough to keep from being sick. Throughout the meal, he talked and laughed with his new friends, and even with a few other new students (a girl who introduced herself as Pansy Parkinson, and the Zabini boy who had been sorted last). When they were finally herded off to their new dormitories, it was with bellies that were full and hearts that were light.

The walk was long, but not too long, and they soon stopped in front of what appeared to be a blank wall, much to Harry's confusion. Before he could say anything, though, the prefect said something that sounded like "anguis domi"- a Latin phrase, perhaps?- and the wall melted away.

The common room was amazing. The walls were smooth stone, with one being glass and facing out directly into the lake- he'd have to take a look later- and the entire room was furnished in deep green and sparkling silver. Couches, rug, wall hangings- the only thing that wasn't either was the wooden table in the central area and the crackling fire.

The prefect led them to one of two doors on the far wall, the ones that led to their dorms. Harry was sad to see Hermione go, but she had Pansy to talk to so she'd likely be fine. 

The prefects told them to go into the door that had their names, and that they did. Harry, Ron, and Draco all happened to be grouped together, along with Blaise and some boy named Theodore Nott. The four that were there each went straight to their respective beds, Harry opening his trunk.

The moment he did, a flash of green darted out at him, immediately coiling around his chest and shoulders, and he nearly fell backwards. _"You left me in there too long! What are these small humans? Are they going to lock you in a cage, too? Tell them to put those sticks away!"_ At the mention of the sticks, he looked up to see three separate wands trained on him.

"Harry. Why is there a large snake tackling you from out of your trunk?" He put his hands up in surrender and spoke as calmly as possible. The basilisk had startled him as well, but was there really a reason to act so tense?

"Guys, it's alright. This is Athalia, my, er, familiar. _Athalia, would you calm down now and stop freaking everybody out, please?"_ He didn't notice when he slipped back to hisses while addressing the basilisk, and in an instant the others were once again looking at him.

"Bloody hell, you're a-"

"You didn't tell us you were a-"

"Damn, a roommate that's a-"

_**"Parselmouth!"** _

Harry looked between them, blinking. He had barely caught much more than the last word, with them talking over one another.

"Um, what? What's a Parselmouth?" 

Clearly not the right thing to say, as the other three each looked entirely fed up with his madness. Ron looked skyward as if begging the world to strike him dead, Blaise simply sat on his bed to look very, very tired, and Draco, of course, muttered some scalding remark about Muggles. Harry flinched at the reactions and stroked Athalia's head for comfort, something he had taken to doing quite a long time ago.

"Look, I'm sorry, but my relatives never told me about anything magical, so you'll have to bear with me. So what in the blazes is a Parselmouth?"

"Merlin's beard, Harry," Draco muttered. "Alright, fine. I will entertain your pitiful lack of knowledge on the world around you, but I swear the next time you ask I'm _throwing_ you to the library." He honestly didn't doubt the boy's resolve to do exactly that, and decided to shut up as Draco sat on his bed and looked down at him. 

"First off, Parseltongue is the language of snakes. It's really uncommon for a wizard to be able to speak it, and there have only been a few dozen known cases throughout history. Most notably are Slytherin himself and You-Know-Who." Harry nodded along silently, absorbing the information and cringing slightly when he heard the last name. Something in common with the madman who murdered his parents? The idea sickened Harry, and if not for Athalia, he thought the ability wouldn't be worth it.

 _I make many things better simply by existing, you already know that,_ she told him. He resisted the urge to chuckle and simply nodded as Draco finished. "So it's a really rare ability. Alright, that's fair. McGonagall got freaked out by it, too, guess I can't much blame you guys."

"No, you can't. Now-" The blond paused to stretch, "-if we're all done pulling surprises out from nowhere, I'm going to bed like a normal, decent person, and I'll hex all of you if you try to wake me up before sunrise."

There were murmurs of general agreement, and the four- five, including Athalia- were soon fast asleep.

* * *

Their fifth roommate turned up the next morning, explaining that he had been up late in the common room and threatening to hex them if they called him Theodore. Most likely an empty threat, as no first year would be expected to know any good hexes, but they all complied. He raised an eyebrow at Athalia, who had settled on Harry's pillow, but made no comment. 

Harry had a brief mental argument with the young basilisk and she eventually consented to staying in the dorm with a dissatisfied hiss.

The only people in the Great Hall that morning who actually looked glad to be awake were Hermione and Pansy. The rapidly growing group of friends grabbed a few seats at the end of the Slytherin table and they all started into their conversation.

"I've already read all the textbooks, of course- I was quite excited when I found out about magic," Hermione said when Harry asked about the coursework. Draco, sitting next to him, gave her a curious look.

"Found out? So you're Muggleborn, then?" The bushy-haired girl glanced up at him. "Yes. The first one in Slytherin House in quite some time, though I can't imagine _why..._ " Draco sneered and crossed his arms. "Maybe because you've no place here at all, and Slytherin was the only Founder with enough sense to see that."

Both Harry and Hermione reeled at that. The girl puffed up and opened her mouth, no doubt to make some angry remark, but her dormmate beat her to it. "That's quite the talk from someone such as yourself, _Malfoy,_ " Pansy snapped, giving the blond a death glare. "Care to tell us why she shouldn't be here when we haven't had half a chance to see what she can do?" 

It was Draco's turn to look taken aback, and he sputtered for a moment before sullenly accepting the argument and poking at his eggs. Harry watched the exchange curiously, not knowing what to make of it. He eventually returned to his own breakfast and resolved to ask Pansy later.

* * *

The first year Slytherins had their first interesting class as Potions. With the _Gryffindors._

They filed down to the Potions classroom, a noticeable tension in the air. It seemed almost like both groups of students had been given a "hate that other House " talk, and many of the Gryffindors were outright glaring at them, even fingering their wands, while the Slytherins lifted their chins and sneered right back. Harry thought that hexes might start flying when the door to the classroom swung open and the teacher swept out.

He was tall, pale, and quite resembled a bat. Harry recognized him from the High Table at the feast the night before, and faintly recalled a glare he had received upon looking at the man. The professor's eyes swept over the Slytherins appraisingly, darkening as they crossed Harry's, and he sneered at the Gryffindors who had yet to straighten up.

"Well, what are you waiting for? Come in, I've no time for your dawdling," he barked, sending both groups of students rushing into the classroom.

Harry took a seat next to Draco, avoiding the Potion Master's piercing gaze and focusing on the textbook he had already read at least three times. The professor- Snape, apparently- went through roll, practically spitting out Harry's surname, and stood imposing at the front of the classroom.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. Once again, his beady eyes swept over the classroom, the sneer never once leaving his face. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

Harry resisted the urge to snort at the last line, but the amusement must have bled through his usual blank mask, because Professor Snape set upon him at once. "Potter! Find something funny, do you? Well, if you think yourself far enough ahead to not pay attention, then of course you can tell me what would happen if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood."

Harry froze. He had read the textbooks front to back while waiting for the start of term, and nowhere did he find anything referencing those two plants. Was it even first year material? Was it something students who grew up in magical families were expected to know?

"Well, Potter? Spit it out, there's no time for silly games."

"I- I don't know, sir," he finally managed, shrinking back into his chair as the man's scowl deepened. The glare reminded him faintly of his aunt, and he had to fight to shove _that_ thought aside, because it wouldn't do to break down in the middle of class.

"Well, clearly fame isn't everything," the professor drawled, robes swishing behind him as he stepped away. "Those two ingredients, in fact, help to make a powerful potion known as the Draught of Living Death." Harry noticed Draco tensing beside him, a sneer crossing the pale boy's face, and gave the slightest shake of his head. Snape clearly didn't like him, though he couldn't imagine _why,_ but he wasn't about to let his friend get in trouble on his behalf.

Thankfully, Draco seemed to pick up on the action and sunk back into his chair with a scowl. "Not fair to ask something like that, it's _sixth year material,_ for Merlin's sake," he hissed, and Harry could only be glad Snape hadn't heard.

The professor seemed content to turn the brunt of his cool rage on the Gryffindors, and the rest of the class passed by without incidence. Harry and Draco's potion was the closest to perfect in the class (just barely beating Hermione and Pansy's), and Harry was glad to put his skill with cooking to good use.

* * *

Their first flying lesson, about a week later, was when things really got interesting. A Gryffindor in their year had a terrible time gaining control of his broom, and while Madam Hooch went to take him to the hospital wing, they were instructed to stay firmly on the ground. Which of course, they did without question.

As if.

Instead, many of them waited until they were sure the teacher was long gone before kicking back off. Harry found that he was actually quite good on a broom, and while most of the others were flying just a few feet off the ground, he and Draco were circling high above them, chasing each other around. The rush of wind in his hair, the bubbly laughter of his comrades- he could stay up there forever.

"ALL OF YOU, BACK ON THE GROUND THIS INSTANT!"

The booming voice of Madam Hooch put a stop to their fun. Harry's face paled and Draco looked as if he was going to be sick as they touched down, avoiding the professor's gaze.

"You two! Come with me. As for the rest of you, you will _not_ be doing so much as _thinking_ about a broom for the rest of the day or there will be consequences!" Harry swallowed and dropped the broom before following quietly behind Madam Hooch. There was nothing but silence and boiling anger as they were lead through the halls, and Harry realized with a shudder that it was towards the dungeons.

They were saved from their horrible fate at their Head of House's hands by an older student nearly running straight into Madam Hooch. The boy looked startled for a moment and then his face brightened significantly. 

"Ah! Madam Hooch. Are you busy? I wanted to ask you about-"

"Apologies, Mr. Flint, but I must take these boys to Professor Snape's office."

The boy grimaced and glanced behind her to the first years. "Another broken broom?"

"No, they were pulling ridiculous stunts while I was tending to an injured student. Come on, you two-"

"Wait!" Harry was startled. The Flint boy had stopped Madam Hooch in her tracks and she gave him a dark look. "What kind of stunts? Are they any good?" 

That was... an interesting reaction. Madam Hooch balked at the suggestion, but the older boy gave her a pleading look. "Please, ma'am, you know how low we are on players."

She sighed and shot a look at Harry and Draco before relenting. "I won't stop you, Marcus, but do keep in mind that they are first years. I'll let you be the judge of their skill."

A grin spread across the older boy's face and he nodded fervently. "Of course, ma'am. You two! What are your names?"

Harry and Draco shared a look. "U-um, I'm Harry Potter."

"Draco Malfoy, a pleasure to make your acquaintance." He sounded anything but pleased, but it didn't stop the older boy. 

"Marcus Flint, and the pleasure is mine. Tryouts are this Saturday, 9'o'clock sharp on the pitch. Thank you, Madam Hooch." With that, he turned and dashed off, robes fluttering out behind him.

Madam Hooch gave them a long, hard look before sighing. "You'll have to get permission to play. Detention for both of you for the rest of the week. Now get to your next class before I change my mind!"

The two agreed the moment they were out of earshot that both the flying instructor and Flint seemed to have a few screws loose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can take my overuse of commas out of my cold, dead WIP.


	5. Chapter Four: Bad Dreams and Bold Catches

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GUESS WHO'S BACK  
> BACK AGAIN  
> I'm sorry. Mostly for the unannounced hiatus. My school started up on the 7th and I got a little caught up in all the mess, so I kinda forgot to update, but I promise I'll get the missing chapters out! 5 and 6 will hopefully be up by Wednesday. And I'm try to stick to the original update schedule, but if high school continues to be hell I miiiiight have to switch to biweekly.  
> ANYWAY! I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. Bye lovelies!!!

_It was dark in the tiny cupboard, and a young boy sat alone, crying quietly on his cot. The eleven--year-old was still tired and bruised from a long day's work yesterday, and he desperately wished for somebody to come to his rescue._

_But who would ever help a freak like him? Surely not any teacher, no, his aunt and uncle made sure to tell them beforehand how horrible he was._

_The image of a friendly snake comforting him flitted through his mind, but he pushed it aside. Snakes couldn't speak, that was ridiculous. And even if they could, not even one of them would care for him._

_The cupboard door creaked open and he looked up in fear. His aunt glared down her long, pointed nose at him. "Get up, boy! Breakfast won't cook itself."_

_He was dragged out of the cupboard and shoved in front of the stove. "Don't you dare burn it this time."_

_But he did, and he couldn't hold back the scream of pain that escaped his throat as his hands were shoved onto the burning stovetop, his aunt screaming profanities at him before shoving him back in the cupboard_.

"Potter. Harry!"

"Harry, wake up!" His eyes snapped open and he looked up to a pale blob. Hands were wrapped firmly around his wrists and he quickly tried to pull away, more memories rising to the surface. "Sorry, but you were- you wouldn't stay still, and I wanted to make sure you were alright." Harry allowed himself to breathe and sit up, Draco's familiar voice bringing some semblance of comfort. Right, Draco was here, which meant he was at Hogwarts, he was safe.

"I-it's nothing. I'm fine."

The blond gave him a dubious look. "Harry, you were screaming. And you said... something about your aunt." Every muscle in his body tensed as he prepared for what he knew Draco was about to say. Why couldn't he just keep his stupid mouth shut?

"Did the Muggles- did your family do something to you?"

Harry shook his head fervently. "N-no, I'm fin-fi-fine. Fine. Just a- just a night- a nightmare." His breathing was everywhere, and he leaned back against the headboard, his head landing on scales. The coil shifted as Athalia slowly woke. _Harry? Wait, there's someone there!_

_I'm fine. It's just Draco, don't attack him._

"If you're sure. Sorry for waking you, goodnight." Draco didn't really seem satisfied with the answer he had given, but he slunk off back towards his own bed anyway.

Athalia slid down off the bedpost and curled around Harry's arm. _You're not alright. Was it another nightmare?_

For a moment he hesitated, but Athalia was his closest friend, and she knew about what they had done, and she couldn't tell anyone anyways. _Yeah. I think I'm gonna work on learning some privacy charms so I don't wake everybody up._

The snake gave a hiss of disapproval, but neither was awake enough for a real argument, and she curled close to him as he drifted back off to sleep.

* * *

Harry ran a gloved hand along the handle of the broomstick. According to Draco, it was the best one in the Quidditch team's storage shed- or at least, the second best, since his friend had snatched up the slightly better model in an instant. He couldn't really blame him- flying was amazing, and any chance to do more of it was welcome.

He let the blond drag him over to the cluster of older students, mostly second and third years, who were also trying out. Draco looked like he might explode with happiness- he had been going on all week about how first years never played for the House teams, and they were probably the youngest players in a century.

Harry hadn't bothered to remind him that they hadn't made the team yet.

"Everybody line up!" Flint walked out of the locker room flanked by two other boys and looking appraisingly at the students who were trying out, the corners of his mouth twitching ever so slightly upward when he glanced at Draco and Harry. 

"Now, I want you all to get into groups for the position you're trying out for. Chasers over here, Beaters there, Keepers right there, and Seekers back there," the Captain said, gesturing to different spots. The older students all scrambled to their different spots, and Harry and Draco did as well.

The pair had spent a good portion of free time that week pouring over Quidditch rules, Chaser plays, and any other information they could get their hands on (which was a lot, once Draco owled his father for some books from the Malfoy library). After heavy contemplation, Harry had determined that his size and natural talent on a broom would be best for the Seeker position, and Draco had also decided to try out for the same. So they both made their way over to the group of prospective Seekers- thankfully a bit smaller than the others.

"Wouldn't it be amazing if we both got on? Different positions, of course- what would you think if you made Beater?"

"I think we should pay attention," Harry replied, not even glancing at his overexcited friend. Draco seemed to realize that Flint was addressing them and immediately shot to attention, his knuckles white around his broom.

"Alright, here's how it goes. Each of you will have a chance to go for the Snitch against someone else 7 times. Whoever catches it the most will get the spot. Any questions?" Everyone seemed either too intimidated by Flint or too sure in their own knowledge to ask, so he nodded and pointed to Harry. "Potter and Gibbs, you'll start."

Draco shoved him forward gently, as Harry seemed frozen to the spot, and he stumbled forward to stand by the other candidate. Flint handed the Snitch to another boy and went off to the Chaser group with a final cursory glance back at them.

Harry mounted his broom shakily, allowing himself to hover just centimeters off the ground as he got his bearings. And then the Snitch was released, and he took a deep breath before shooting forward at the signal.

For the first few seconds, he hurtled toward the other end of the field, his eyes searching for the tiny golden ball. The wind ripped through his hair- this broom was _fast,_ that was sure- and he caught sight of it just an instant before his competitor.

He took a sharp turn towards the Snitch, just barely inching ahead of Gibbs. For a moment, it seemed he might pull ahead. But the older boy had size and experience on him, and he slammed into Harry's side, nearly throwing him off his broom.

For half of a horrible second, Harry's grip on the broomstick failed, and he flipped upside down as he rolled to the right. Then he was upright again, and he gripped the broom with renowned vigor, spurring it onward. He quickly caught back up, and they were neck and neck as they reached the winged ball.

Harry's fingertips nearly brushed the ball once, twice, and...

He kicked off his broom, only hanging on by the one hand, and his fist closed around the Snitch. Gibbs gave him a murderous look as he settled back on the broom, his glittering prize firmly in hand.

Harry shot him his cheekiest grin and swooped back around towards the group, were Draco was absolutely beaming at him.

* * *

All said and done, Harry caught 5 out of the 7 thrown against Gibbs, and went on to barely beat out several of the other prospective Seekers. Draco was called over by Flint to run Chaser drills after he lost 3 to 4 against some third year girl, and they trudged back into the castle thoroughly worn out.

"So what do you think about your chances?" Harry asked on their way back to the dorms.

"Oh, well Flint said I've got a good shot. And I suppose I don't need to ask about you. You were practically crushing all those third-years!" Harry flushed and ducked his head in embarrassment. "N-no way. I was just- I mean, so-ome of them were really good."

Draco gave him a look and shook his head. "Either way, it's obvious you're a shoe-in. And I think I've got a good chance at Chaser myself," he remarked, puffing up his chest.

"Right."


	6. Chapter Five: A Rainy Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly I'm not too proud of this chapter, I forgot where I was going with it about halfway through. But I don't wanna leave off on the updates for too long so this'll have to do. See ya

The weather seemed to reflect Draco's mood on this particular day. It was pouring outside, a darkness hanging about the castle, and he had fittingly just received a scathing letter from his father about his hanging about with a Mudblood- absolutely _not_ true, he had barely ever spoken to Granger and the only reason he hadn't said anything too harsh was because she had seemed bright and willing to properly adjust to the environment of Slytherin House. That, and he didn't want to ostracize himself from Harry and Pansy, who both seemed smitten with her.

Beyond the letter, Harry seemed to want to ignore him in favor of the Weasley and the aforementioned Muggleborn today, and they had barely exchanged more than their normal greeting. Both of these things, along with the worst classes on his schedule today, had the blond wanting to hex anyone that spoke to him by lunch.

Draco hung sullenly around the Slytherin common room during the free period, skulking in the shadows and absolutely not watching Harry and his friends every time they entered. And then, he remembered something that was sure to turn the day around.

This in mind, he made his way down to the Quidditch locker rooms as quickly as possible. He found several older students there, most of the people who had been at the tryouts, clamoring over one another to see the list. He slipped between the older kids as close to the front as he could manage and his eyes frantically scanned the page.

Harry was at the top, he had gotten Seeker as everyone pretty much knew he would. And Draco himself...

Was a backup Chaser.

The deep scowl returned to his face and he shoved his way back out of the group, storming back up to the castle without bothering to try and shield himself from the rain. Maybe he could hunker down in his room and hex anyone who tried to bother him.

Unfortunately, the universe seemed to have it out for him on this particular day, and on the way back to the dungeons he nearly ran straight into Harry and his other friends.

"Oh, hi Draco. Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?" he snapped, glowering at the dark-haired boy. Harry seemed startled by this tone and stepped back just slightly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I suppose that's obvious."

"Somebody steal your hair potion or something, Malfoy?" All three turned towards the Weasel, who kept his attention fixed on the blond.

_Alright, Draco, keep it together. House unity, were not allowed to duel other Slytherins in the halls. You can get him back later._

"Wouldn't you like to know, Weasley," he growled before sweeping past them and continuing on.

* * *

Draco had been sulking for only about ten minutes when he heard a soft hissing coming from Harry's bed. He glanced over to see his friend's familiar, staring him down through her closed inner eyelids.

"What do you want?" he grumbled, looking abruptly away from the snake's deadly eyes. He was grumpy, not stupid, and he wasn't about to piss off a basilisk and be staring straight at it. It hissed once more, and he nearly snapped that he couldn't understand, but held his tongue.

Instead, he tried to ignore it until he felt a pressure on his arm and looked down to see her coiling up his wrist. His eyes widened but he tried not to flinch away as she made her way up his arm and around the back of his neck. Draco barely managed to keep his breathing calm as the basilisk nuzzled into his neck, hissing softly. Still, for all he was mildly terrified, he found the presence to be quite calming.

And then the door opened.

* * *

Harry had been walking up to the library with Ron and Hermione when Athalia began talking to him down the bond, practically begging him to come back to the dorm. She wouldn't tell him what was wrong, insisting that he should handle it himself, and he finally relented, telling his friends he had left something in his room.

He returned to the dorm after a brief period of silence from his familiar and opened the door. _"Alright, Athalia, what are you-"_

And there was Draco, sitting upright on his bed with the basilisk cuddling him. The blond looked both annoyed and a bit terrified- not something Harry could blame him for, Athalia was quite dangerous despite not yet being fully mature.

"Potter. What is the meaning of this?" Draco asked, eyes narrowed at Harry as he gestured to Athalia with his free hand. Harry fought back a chuckle and simply approached, smirking, and laid a hand on the basilisk's head. _"Okay, you've had your fun, I think you ought not torment Draco any more."_

_"I'm not tormenting him, I'm comforting him. He smelled upset."_

This caused Harry to stop and meet Draco's eyes for a moment. The other boy quickly looked away, glaring at the sheets. "Well?" 

"She says you're upset and she's not going to get off."

 _Lies and slander. I'm just cold, it's your turn to make him feel better._ As if to prove a point, she immediately unraveled herself from around Draco's arm and slithered back down to the floor.

The blond pushed down his robe sleeve and regarded Harry coldly. "I'm not _upset,_ and I bloody well don't need help from your snake. I just want to be left alone."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked. "Because I-"

"Merlin's beard, Potter, just let me be!" He swept out the door past Harry, leaving him dumbfounded.

Athalia, now coiled up on his pillow as usual, hissed in a way the sounded like clicking her tongue. _"You could really stand to work on your tact."_

Harry couldn't make himself disagree and instead nodded and stumbled back out of the room.


	7. Chapter Six: The Defense Club

Harry shifted once more, Athalia hissing softly in dissatisfaction. Draco gave him a look, the same one he had just received that morning, and Harry politely told her to shut up.

_Ridiculous, I am perfectly quiet already._

That morning, Athalia had had a "bad feeling", as she claimed, and she had insisted on tagging along with him. As she wouldn't take no for an answer and he couldn't do much to stop her, that was exactly what she had done. So she had been coiled around his torso under his robes, a nagging voice in the back his head saying things like _"_ _I'm hungry,"_ and _"It's swish and flick, not swish and stab"._

 _You're the one who wanted to come,_ he reminded her, and that seemed to work for a bit. The small group of friends, plus Crabbe and Goyle, entered the Defense classroom and Harry immediately gagged.

The smell of garlic, of all things, permeated the room, and it was nearly as dark as the Potions room. The man in the purple turban he had seen next to Professor Snape at meals was standing at the front of the room, and a feeling of uneasiness settled over Harry.

He chose a seat at the back of the class, and Ron, plugging his nose, did the same. Even Athalia tensed around him, and he got the feeling she was glaring at the Professor through her shirt. Harry, on the other hand, felt a twinge of pain in his forehead when he looked at the man's turban, and brought his hand up to his scar.

The class was dreadfully boring, nearly as bad as History of Magic. Quirrel had a stutter that sounded almost fake, and instead of any practical work like the other classes he seemed more inclined to lecture the year away. Any time he looked towards Harry there was a flash of pain, so he kept his eyes locked on his textbook, running through the best ways to get out of the room in his head.

Fortunately, he didn't have to utilize any of those escape routes, but unfortunately, he clearly wasn't going to get anything useful out of DADA that year. He said as much when the growing group of friends gathered in the corner of the common room that evening.

"We should some practice outside of classes. Some of us already know the basics, we could all be caught up by the end of the year," Draco suggested. There were murmurs of dissent around the circle until Hermione spoke up. "Clubs that are unsanctioned by the school aren't allowed. We'd get in trouble."

Everyone seemed to be waiting for the point, and she huffed in exasperation. "Surely some of you are concerned about that! Harry?"

He shrugged. "We're going to have to learn it one way or another. Might even be able to study _ahead,_ wouldn't that be great?" The bushy-haired girl looked instantly torn between the prospect of learning advanced material and wanting to stick to the rules.

"Look, Mia, you don't have to join in if you don't want to," Pansy said, a hand on the other girl's arm.

"But if word gets out we'll know it was you," Blaise added. Hermione paled, but finally gave a firm nod. "I'll join. It does make sense to do some independent study with such... _interesting_ professors."

Draco beamed. "Alright, any other protests? Weasley, I know your family is a stickler for the rules-"

"I'm in."

"I knew you were too- w-wait, did you say yes?" Harry barely kept his laughter down. Watching those two bicker was extraordinarily fun, especially when one blatantly ignored the other. 

"Yeah. My brothers have done a lot worse, believe me." Draco was pale and sputtering, so Harry laid a hand on his shoulder and cut in. "Well, now that's settled, we need to figure out when and where we'll meet up. Any suggestions?"

"Well, we can't do it in the common room or the dorms, obviously... there's some classrooms that don't get used, but we'd have to ward them really well, or take care not to get caught..."

All four of the purebloods volunteered to owl their parents for any books on warding, and they agreed to meet up Friday to search for a suitable place.

* * *

"Harry, wait up!" The green-eyed boy turned in surprise to see Ron hurtling down the hall towards him, grinning ear to ear. His friend stopped, panting, next to him.

"What is it?" 

"I've found a place for Defense practice," he began. "I asked my brothers- Fred and George, you know, the ones that aren't weird about my Sorting?- and they-" Harry put a finger up to shush his friend.

"I'm glad you're on good terms with your brothers, and that you've found a place for our little group _,_ but this might be a conversation for the common room," he reminded him, jerking his head to indicate the other few people in the corridor. Ron blinked in surprise and glanced around, his face reddening as he seemed to realize where they were.

"Right! Sorry. I'll just- show everybody on Friday. I've got to meet up with the girls, I'll see you around, eh?"

"See ya," Harry mumbled as he watched the retreating form of his friend. He leaned against the wall, humming softly to himself, when he suddenly fell through a door he was sure hadn't been present before.

Harry grunted as he stood up, rubbing his back and glancing around the room. It looked for the most part to be abandoned, aside from a standing mirror in the corner. He walked towards it, perplexed, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw his reflection.

Standing behind him, smiling and waving, were a man and a woman, neither of which could be much more than twenty. The woman had coppery hair and striking green eyes exactly like Harry's own, and the man wild black hair.

He wasn't sure how, but somehow, he knew. These were his parents.

He reached out to touch the glass, as if he might be able to fall through the mirror and join them, and couldn't stop himself from looking over his shoulder. 

Harry jerked his hand back. This was a prank or something, it had to be- he wasn't sure who exactly would have it out for him but almost nobody really liked Slytherins. Some cruel joke- probably a Gryffindor's work- intended to catch poor little Potter crying over his dead mummy and daddy.

Crying. He hadn't noticed the tear trickling down his cheek until then. He wiped his face furiously- what use was there in crying over people who had died years ago? He hadn't even known his parents, he shouldn't be sad about their deaths.

And yet, there was a yearning he had always felt. Even as much as he resented the Dursley's, he had always longed to be coddled and fussed over like his cousin, to get even a scrap of affection or praise from a parent. Maybe he should be mad at his parents for leaving him.

No, not his parents. It was Voldemort's fault, wasn't it? Voldemort's fault that he hadn't been raised a wizard like Draco and Blaise, Voldemort's fault that he had had to survive the hell on earth at the Dursley's, Voldemort's fault that he was _missing something he had never even known._

Rage welled up in his throat and he pushed his magic out at the mirror, causing a crack to emerge. A single tiny fissure that barely disturbed the smiling face of his father.

Harry didn't wave back at them as he left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well! That got a little heavier than even I expected- tbh I was going to have the mirror stuff be a way later chapter, but them I realized this one was short so I kept writing and that just sort of... h a p p e n e d.  
> Hope it was as much fun for you to read as it was for me to write, bye lovelies!


	8. Chapter Seven: The Secret Hideout

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: The chapter has a title now! I seriously can't believe I missed that the first time around, honestly XP  
> Anyway, have fun, lovelies!

The twittering of owls could be heard one September morning in the Great Hall as seven Slytherin friends sat down to breakfast. They all glanced up to see if any familiar owls were there- Blaise and Draco were still expecting responses from their parents on the topic of warding books.

Alas, no tomes dropped onto the table in front of them, but an eagle owl swooped close to the table and released a long, thin package in front Harry. He deftly caught it before it landed in the food, maneuvering it away from the table. A grin spread across his face as he examined the package and realized what it must be.

"Is that it?!" Draco and Ron exclaimed, prompting several more heads to turn. 

Harry nodded, grinning, and lifted it so they could get a better view

"Amazing," Ron breathed, leaning over the table and earning a sharp glare from Hermione as his elbow came dangerously close to her eggs. "Can we see?"

Harry shrugged and lifted the broom slightly, preparing to tear into the paper when Draco caught his arm. "Hang on," the blond hissed. "It would be an advantage to keep it secret from the other teams. Wait until we get to the common room." Ron shrank back in his seat, staring into his lap.

"He's got a point, I guess." Draco immediately straightened and turned up his nose at Ron. "Nice to see you've got some brains in that thick skull of yours, Weasley." The redhead adopted the scowl he usually donned when talking to Draco and shot back up. "Least I don't have a stick up my arse, ferret."

"Alright, that's enough." The two both turned to the girls, who were giving them disapproving looks. Pansy seemed to have her death glare more finely honed than Hermione's, and even Harry flinched a little at her burning stare.

"You two have been at each others' throats from day one and there's not a single good reason for it. Now either kiss and make up or just stay away from each other, because your current behavior is unbecoming of Slytherin House and completely unacceptable," the black-haired girl scolded. They both opened their mouths in protest, but Hermione raised a hand. "Ah-bah-bah-bap! She's right, you two act like complete dunderheads and it's getting on everyone's nerves. What is your problem anyways?"

"He's a Malfoy!"

"He's a Weasley!"

 **"And?"** the two said in unison, their glares growing darker by the minute. Harry struggled to suppress a smirk, and he could tell that Blaise was doing the same, having taken a vexed interest in his eggs. "Pansy comes from a family quite the same as yours, Draco, and I'm Muggleborn, but we get on just fine. You can plot each others' deaths all you want in the dungeons, but you aren't going to go against what the prefects said about House unity. We have to at least pretend not to hate each other." With that, the bushy-haired girl stood, grabbing her books. "If you'll excuse me, I'm going to the library. Would you like to join me,Pansy?"

The two left, and nobody said anything for quite some time. Draco and Ron regarded one another coldly before the latter sighed.

"I guess she's right. Well, the two of them. We aren't our parents, and we don't have to hate each other over stupid shit like they do." He extended a hand and the blond blinked, looking entirely confounded. His usual smug demeanor quickly returned, though, and he accepted the hand. "That's... very mature of you, Weasel," he said, although he sounded less mocking than usual.

"Oh, bugger off, Malfoy. I still intend on hexing the brains out of you later."

* * *

Ron had a chance of getting that wish, because after classes the seven met up in the library. They clustered around one of the tables nearest the door, Madam Pince thankfully overlooking them in favour of some much louder Gryffindor boys.

"Alright, first order of business: has anyone found a place to use?" Hermione, ever the organizer, had a quill at the ready to scribble down anything important from the meeting.

"I've got that covered," Ron said proudly. "My brothers told me about an old classroom near the kitchens. It's not in use anymore and not even Filch patrols around there, so we can keep from being caught, easy." A sour look crossed Draco's face, and he leaned forward. "That's all well and good, but we've no idea where the kitchens are, Weasel. Unless your precious brothers gave you a map?"

A smirk crossed the redhead's face as he pulled a piece of parchment out of his robes. "Actually, they did. Shows the way to the room from the Slytherin dorms- _no,_ ferret, I didn't tell them where it was, they just know a lot of stuff they shouldn't- and we can keep it secret that way, too." Draco couldn't seem to come up with an argument for that, and instead sank back into his seat with a defeated sigh.

There were murmurs and nods around the table, and Theo stood up. "Best we get going, then. If we head out now we might be able to find the kitchens, too." He turned to the door without waiting for the others to follow, and they all stood up rather quickly.

The seven first-years made their way to the Slytherin common room entrance and immediately started on the map. Blaise and Harry were elected as the navigators, seeing as nobody else seemed to have any sense of direction, and they marched onward through the dungeons. After a few wrong turns and more than one awkward confrontation with a Hufflepuff- perhaps their dorms were nearby?- they arrived in front of the door.

"Think this is it?"

"Fred and George didn't really say what it looked like."

"Oh, just shut up and go in!" Hermione exclaimed, pushing past Harry and trying for the door. She pulled back with a groan a moment later. "It's locked. Honestly, Ronald, can your brothers get anything right?"

"Granger, have you forgotten that you're a witch?" Draco drawled, pulling out his wand and stepping up to the door. " _Alohomora._ "

There was a soft click, and the door opened slightly. The blond turned to Hermione with a smirk and stepped inside.

"Prat," the witch muttered, stalking in after him. Harry and Blaise shared a look before the followed, the rest trailing behind.

The room was just slightly bigger than the Potions classroom, and was clearly disused. Many of the chairs were damaged, and the footsteps of the Slytherins kicked up a cloud of dust.

"Well," Harry said once he had finished coughing, "I guess it's cleaning time."

Not everyone was actually very good at cleaning charms. Pansy, Blaise, and Ron were the only ones proficient, and Draco and Theo only really knew the incantations. Still, between the seven of them and with Harry's housekeeping experience, the room was quickly clear of dust and cobwebs. When the group determined that tables were a little above their pay grade when it came to Levitation Charms, they pushed up their sleeves and lifted. It resulted in seven sweaty Slytherins, but they managed to move them all within the hour.

Harry looked around with a satisfied grin. The classroom was nearly unrecognizable from when they had first started, and it looked like a proper dueling space now.

Theo and Blaise nearly collapsed after their last desk. "We done yet? Want sum food," the former slurred, leaned over the table. 

"No. We have to set up the wards," Hermione reminded them, waving around one of the books Lady Zabini had sent them. Nearly everyone else groaned, and even Harry flinched on their behalf.

"'Mione, maybe that can wait until tomorrow. It's about time for dinner." She didn't look happy about it, but everyone agreed and she went along.

They yawned and shuffled their way through dinner, everyone but Harry barely able to lift their arms for their exhaustion. As they parted ways, shuffling off to their respective dorms, all of the seven friends agreed that they'd be glad to get to sleep that night.

Harry was greeted by a soft, familiar hissing as he collapsed onto his bed, not bothering to draw the curtains shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me? Getting a chapter out on time? Have we transcended reality?  
> And it's a proper length, unlike the last two which were tiny! I'm on fire this week!  
> Well, I'm very proud of myself. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, though it's not quite plot-heavy. Maybe we'll see a Quidditch game soon...


	9. Chapter Eight: Hidden Doors and Quiet Glances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aye, guess who's finally back! I can't even bring myself to apologize for the lateness, school really got to me and I'm currently in tech for a show, but I finally had some time to sit down and finish this chapter and GODS it was refreshing! I promise I'll try to keep things at least biweekly if not weekly, you guys have been great and you really don't deserve my random unannounced hiatuses.

"Wait up, Pansy!"

The dark-haired girl flashed a grin over her shoulder at the other four before continuing, even faster now, up the staircase. Just as she was about to reach the top, though, there was a grinding noise as the stairs jolted out of place.

Harry gripped the rail, unable to reach out and stop the girl that was tumbling back down. She fell straight into Hermione, who grunted and stumbled back a bit before catching both of them, steadying herself. Harry turned to check that they were alright, pulling Pansy up off the stairs.

"Get off me, Weasel." Ron grumbled a half-hearted insult back at the blond, pushing him away.

"Everybody alright?" Hermione asked, looking over everyone.

"Yeah, yeah, let's just go before that happens again," the redhead complained, pushing past Draco towards the top of the stairs. Nobody wanted to argue, so they followed him up and into the corridor beyond.

"What floor are we on?"

"It's so _dark._ "

"Guys!" Harry was jerked aside into Ron, and peeked around the suit of armour to see a cat.

"Bloody hell, is that-?"

"It's Filch's cat," Draco hissed from somewhere across the corridor. "We've got to go!"

The group dashed down the narrow corridor, cursing and stumbling over one another. Hermione pointed them towards the first door she saw.

"It's locked! What do we do?"

"Granger, do we have to remind you that you're a witch?"

"Oh I'll do it. Alohomara," Pansy hissed, and there was the faint click of a lock.

The five barreled into the room, quickly locking the door behind them. Harry felt someone tense behind him and raised his eyes to see...

All three heads of the dog were snarling, fangs bared in preparation to strike. A muffled scream came from his left, and someone was working to undo the lock, the dog was inching closer and-

"Harry!" A hand on his arm pulled him both out of his daze and the room, and the door slammed behind them.

The raven-haired boy collapsed against the wall, his vision growing blurry as he struggled to breath. The hand was still firmly clinging to him, but he still wasn't sure whose it was.

Dogs. Teeth. Snarling, snapping. It reminded him of when Aunt Marge came to visit, the horrible dog- Ripper- that never left her side. He felt the sting of fresh bites, all over his arms, his legs. It was always after him, and no cupboard could ever offer comfort, even with Athalia inside-

 _Athalia._ The basilisk's presence stirred at the edge of his consciousness, pulling him back to reality. The hand on his arm was Ron's, and his friends were all looking at him with concern etched into their faces. He pushed himself up off the wall and caught his breath, shaking the last vestiges of fear from his mind.

"You alright, mate? You look like you've seen a ghost." He quickly nodded his head. "Don't like dogs," was the only answer he gave, and he went off along the corridor.

As he passed Draco, he saw the same look that he had been given when he had the nightmare.

* * *

"A giant three-headed dog in a school?" Pansy rolled her eyes and leaned across the table, flicking the boy on the nose. "Yes, _Theodore,_ we've only said it about a hundred times."

The group was once again huddled in the old classroom, and Ron, Pansy, and Hermione had just finished explaining (for the third time, as Blaise was quick to remind them) the story of the third floor corridor. Harry sat alone in a corner, barely listening to them, sorting through the hurricane of thoughts that came with the memory of that day.

Theo was right about one thing- why would that beast be kept at Hogwarts? There had to be a thousand better places to keep the thing- if a few first years could just stumble upon it via a rogue staircase, who knew what somebody older, someone with bad intentions, could do. 

"You're not listening Ronald! Did you not see what it was standing on?" Harry's head flicked up towards the conversation, interest suddenly piqued. Standing on...? But yes, as he thought about it he remembered something at the dog's feet before he looked up to its heads.

"I was a bit preoccupied with it's heads, you know. In case you weren't aware, there were _three of them!_ "

"She's right," Harry piped up from the corner, slowly getting to his feet. "There was something- what was it, 'Mia? I didn't see."

The bushy-haired girl smirked at Ron and sat on the table. "It was a trapdoor. The thing's got to be... I don't know, guarding something! We really ought to do more research to figure out what it is, it might help."

"O-oh, I don't know, I've already got loads of homework to- ow!" Pansy gave the redhead a pointed look and lowered the book to her side. "Alright, alright, I'll help you with your obsession. Bloody mad, the lot of you..."

"Aye, we gonna get going or what?" Draco griped. "I've got a lot of studying to do for my _classes_ as well, y'know." With these words, there were murmurs of dissent around the table, and the group stood, filtering out through the door.

"You coming, Potter?" Harry glanced up to see Pansy's head sticking through the door, a bored look plastered across her face. He nodded and stood back up, walking out past her. As he went by, he caught a glimpse of her expression and it was all he could do not to outwardly sigh.

Why was everyone giving him that look lately?


End file.
